


work in progress

by TheEnigmaticPhoenix



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bittersweet, ChanBaek - Freeform, Drama, Inspired by Lotto Era Chanbaek, M/M, Past Byun Baekhyun/Oh Sehun, Psychological Thriller, Purple Prose, Romance, Sheriff! Baekhyun, Thief! Chanyeol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-09 18:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12894357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEnigmaticPhoenix/pseuds/TheEnigmaticPhoenix
Summary: “You are allowed to be both a masterpiece and a work in progress simultaneously.”“It’s not possible to be both at the same time, Chanyeol. They’re contradictions of each other.”“And so are you, my Baekhyun. I’m in love with a contradiction. I’m in love with a masterpiece and a work in progress. Because you are both and I love you just the way you are.”“So don’t ever change for me.”





	1. oblivion

_I dive into the future_  
_But I'm blinded by the sun_  
_I'm reborn in every moment_  
_So who knows what I'll become_

§

 **CHANYEOL**   **WAKES UP**  with a headache, two pairs of broken glasses, and one shoe. He didn't wear glasses, and the shoe wasn't his, so this presented him with something of a conundrum.

He groans as the consequences of his reckless alcohol consumption come crashing down in the form of an aching headache. His world spins when he opens his eyes or at least, tries to, as the crusty evidence of his slumber serves as an obstruction for said task.

Rubbing away the last remnants of sleep, Chanyeol manages to push himself up in a sitting position only to find that he's not in his bed, not in his house, but in the back of a dingy truck in the middle of a desert.

His clothes aren't his either, he notes, having donned a pair of loose sweatpants and a baggy shirt just before hitting the hay but now wearing something akin to dried up lava presented in the form of clothing and feeling like it as the sweltering heat of the sun beats down on him mercilessly. It's so hot that it's painful.

He doesn't know where he is, or what day it is; whether it's all just a sick dream or this was really happening to him.

Long legs collapse uselessly on top of themselves as Chanyeol tries to stand and gather his bearings before he sets out to find some answers. Honestly, he shouldn't be too surprised he failed to get up given his current post-inebriated state.

Looking down hopelessly at his gangly legs, he notices something else on the dirty floor of the truck.

An old worn out bag, with threads almost coming out of their seams. It looks like it was incapable of holding a feather, let alone any item of value and yet, upon closer inspection, Chanyeol discovers that the bag is full of diamonds.

Raw and unadulterated, but nevertheless, diamonds.

He wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him and this is all just an alcohol-induced hallucination. But as he reaches out and his calloused hands grip on to rough stone, his heart gives a jolt.

Too caught up in his own world of discovery, Chanyeol fails to hear the distant roar of police sirens increasing in volume.

It's too late when he sees the approach of the rusty car as it makes its way across the broken road. He realizes that perhaps the diamonds were stolen. But it strikes him odd that they weren't already polished and cut.

Blood rushes to his ears, head pounding terribly, as his grip on the bag tightens instead of letting it go, the obsidian shadiness of his attire adding fuel to the fire of suspicion.

Hope drains out of him as the vehicle nears. Pleading innocent seeming futile given the overwhelming amount of evidence stacked against him.

 _I've been framed_  he yells in his mind praying that the officers would pay heed to his telepathic plea.

Just as he was about to give up, he spots a man of a very short stature making frantic gestures towards him as he points to the side door of a rundown inn.

_Was that always there?_

"You. Hands up!" A voice booms. They've come to arrest him, the realization sinking in and turning him desperate. He looks for the man but all he sees is the inn.

_Was the heat playing tricks on him? Was he just a mirage?_

The door of the police car starts to open as a gust of wind blows across the arid desert, creating a faux mask of dust for Chanyeol to escape. He bolts as fast as he can towards the inn, despite the gruelling pain in his head and the unsteadiness of his movements.

He reaches the side door and leans against it, breathing heavily, mind reeling, as viscous liquid rolls down his forehead and his clothes stick like second skin to his body.

As he makes to stand straight and get as far away as possible, the door suddenly bursts open and he's roughly dragged in.

Chanyeol barely has time to shout before a long, elegant finger presses against his lips in an attempt to keep him quiet.

Soft, slightly droopy eyes, look into his unwaveringly.

Some part of his brain notes that they're quite adorable, like a puppy, but he pays no mind to that useless piece of information.

His body is pressed against the wall by the mysterious droopy-eyed man and despite the humidity and uncomfortable sultriness of the atmosphere, he makes no effort to move.

His ears roughly register the angry voices outside, presumably belonging to the cops he just averted.

"Where's he gone? I swore I saw him just a second ago. The bastard's even taken the bag with him."

This causes Chanyeol to look down at his hand where said bag is no longer within his grasp.

He looks back at the stranger with a questioning gaze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

The man lets out a barking laugh, that still manages to sound melodious as he raises his other arm to show the dirty, old bag held between his long fingers.

He steps away from Chanyeol to gaze upon the contents of the bag, expression turning from one of curiosity to shock until finally, a mischievous glint overtakes his eyes.

Chanyeol gulps, throat drier than it was before if that was even possible. "I-"

"Shhh, there's no need to explain. What's your name cutie?"

The man's voice takes Chanyeol by surprise, sounding slightly deep and raspy, completely opposite to the feminine tone he expected.

He also notes in the back of his mind that said stranger found him cute, but he decides not to dwell on the fact and instead, answers his question.

"Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol." His undeniably deep voice contrasting with his youthful face.

"Ah, Chanyeol. Such a nice name. It suits you," the man almost purrs, now inches from his face, hot breath fanning over the pale visage.

Chanyeol vaguely remembers nodding but he isn't quite sure. Those caramel orbs hypnotizing, as they served to pull him further into the state of oblivion he was presently in.

"I guess so."

Suddenly, the stranger jerks back and once again examines the contents of the bag. Face morphing into an expression of admiration. Greedy admiration. An obsessive sort of affection. An addictive infatuation.

Then the man looks back at him.

Chanyeol's heart rate skyrockets as he notices that the expression on the man's face still hasn't changed. But it soon plummets as he hears the man speak.

"The name's Baekhyun, but you can call me Sheriff Byun. And you, Park Chanyeol, are under arrest."

§

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! It really means a lot. This is not your typical Police/Criminal AU (although it may seem like it at the moment). I don't usually write dark themes so I'm straying away from my comfort zone for this fic, which by the way, is the first one I've ever published on here. I have about six chapters already written, but I won't be able to write any more until my winter break starts so I apologize for the sporadic uploading in advance. (You get a gold star if you know where the quote at the beginning of the chapter is from.)
> 
> Check out the story cover [here](https://flic.kr/p/2274Q4T)! Designed by yours truly.
> 
> If any of you want to be a beta reader for this fic, feel free to message me. I'd really appreciate it! And feel free to comment on any improvements that could be made. I'm still learning. Any and all feedback is welcome (as long as it's constructive)!
> 
> As always, you can obsess over EXO and anime with me on [Tumblr](https://theenigmaticphoenix.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Vidya__21)!


	2. naivety

_If there's a light at the end_  
_It's just the sun in your eyes_  
_I know you wanna go to heaven_  
_But you're human tonight_

§

 **BAEKHYUN IS TIRED**. He is sick and tired of his job and the supposed benefits it yields for him.

One might think being the sheriff of a solitary desert town located in the middle of nowhere would be the most enthralling occupation to have, considering the circumstances.

Alas, his line of work held as much flavour as the cheap glass of beer he was currently tipping his head back to drink. Bland. Insipid. Monotonous.

It felt like he was watching the same black and white tinted television show being replayed over and over again before his eyes, paralysed, not being able to look away even for a second to search for the remote that changes the channel. To anything. Anything but the hell hole he was currently trapped in.

He had arrived here with his heart on his sleeve and expectations as high as anyone who had watched countless motion pictures about the ‘Wild Wild West’ - as it was so glamorously entitled back then - would have. Only to be severely punished for his naivety. His delusional silver screen fantasy heartlessly trampled on by the footfalls of ungrateful townspeople and cattle. Crushed into an indiscernible heap of broken dreams and swept away with the tumbleweeds that frequented the place, never to return.

 _Just a few months_ they had said. _Just a few months of your service here. This town needs you, Officer Byun. Don’t worry, you’ll come back soon. It’ll be like you never left._

“Bullshit.” He mutters to himself in contempt, grabbing the attention of a few people; effectively silenced from commenting with a piercing glare sent their way courtesy of a disgruntled sheriff.

He could go back, but he didn’t know where he was to begin with and the only thing he could see for miles and miles were the azure sands, a tragic beauty sealing his fate, enveloping him from all sides like a golden prison.

_How pathetic, a sheriff trapped in his own prison, physically and mentally. The keys having been misplaced a long time ago._

A dry, humourless chuckle leaves his mouth as he realises the irony of his pitiful situation.

The transfer of departments had taken place such a long time ago, Baekhyun hardly remembers the city he hailed from, with its colourful lights and buzzing traffic. Oh how he yearned for the chaos.

A wry smile overtakes his features as his mind is filled with bittersweet memories of the past; the melancholic nostalgia proving too much to handle in the stuffy four walled confines of the bar.

He places a few crumpled bills on the grimy counter as he slowly ambles his way outside, the blazing sun showing no signs of dying down, beads of perspiration already forming on his forehead.

Unconsciously toying with his badge, he heads towards the police station, intending to coop himself up in his office until the sun dropped below the horizon, his only companion, an assortment of glass bottles that usually ended up in shattered pieces by the end of the day.

It was a depressing routine. Choreography of the most morbid kind. And Baekhyun has mastered the moves. Practicing day in and day out. Slowly gaining expertise in the sombre art form to the point where he can perform the heartbreaking recital with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back, throat clogged with unspoken words.

But there’s no one to watch. No one to seek appraisal from. No applause. No one to stop him from digging himself deeper into the trench he’s created with his dismal dance.

Resigned to his fate, hopes of ever going back, slowly but surely withering away in disfigured fragments, he continues to deal with the bane that is his existence.

Oh he’s contemplated, whether or not to commit the unspeakable act.

No one needs him anyway. No one will miss him anyway. Hell, there would be celebration instead of mourning.

But Baekhyun, ever the idealist despite everything, wishes for his death to mean something. To leave an impact on this wretched world whether or not it was good or bad.

Perishing away with a rope around his neck was utterly pointless. And he didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him crack and break down.

Instead, he condemns himself to gradually rotting away, having lived a life as bleak and desolate as the desert he’s stuck in.

He’s capricious. Utterly mercurial. But why wouldn’t he be, when his flickering emotions are the only things that aren’t constant, the only things that change.

Loud footsteps echo across the sandy plains, the sound ominous. The walk to the police station longer than others, located a bit further away from the town, near a seemingly endless broken highway that stops at the town and continues on the other end.

At first he mistook the rundown building for an inn; the design of the structure misleading. He hardly acknowledged it as a workplace. As unkempt inside as it was outside.

He had ditched his uniform, refusing to keep up the pretence. Not like anyone needed his services. Crimes as rare as the rain, adding to the monotony of the entire ordeal.

He was soon to discover why such a town existed and how the people found sustenance.

They were diamond miners. Exporters of the most exquisite jewels that shone in every colour imaginable under the sun after being cut and polished.

He has no friends, but he reckons the miners are a bit more than just complete strangers. Holding onto that speck of humane attachment, he does everything in his power to make sure nothing goes astray in that business. Which it never has, so far.

Caught up in his consuming thoughts, he fails to realise that he’s reached his destination, if there ever was one in the first place.

As he is about to go inside through the side door, the front one shackled long before his arrival, he glimpses something out of the ordinary in his peripheral vision.

Squinting his eyes to decipher the figure, he sees a man; a very tall one. He stumbles drunkenly in the back of a truck, lost in a stupor, clutching onto his head, expression morphing into one of pain.

Baekhyun’s eyes widen as he takes in the whole scene. The truck had crashed into an electricity pole, backwards, probably rendering the driver with a concussion if the red oozing down his forehead was anything to go by.

Before he could comprehend the unusual predicament, a fire starts at the hood of the truck, slowly spreading, as it makes its way towards the oblivious driver.

Baekhyun frantically gestures at him, trying to make him notice the hazard, when suddenly, they make eye contact and he automatically switches to beckoning and pointing at his police station, hoping the daft stranger comes to his senses and listens to him.

Seeing no change in the lost expression, Baekhyun stops making the effort. The man could burn if that is what he wished for.

The stranger turns his head, alarmed, towards the empty road, clutching onto a bag of sorts and Baekhyun takes that as his cue to enter the station.

Stepping inside, he leaves the door unlocked and watches the peculiar turn of events fold out through the window.

The man once again looks back at the station, panic overtaking his features. He seems to be contemplating something when suddenly, the smoke from the fire rises up even higher.

It’s as if a spark goes off in his head as he runs, positively flees; bag still in his grasp, long legs almost tripping over themselves in his attempt to reach the station.

A small smile graces Baekhyun’s face when he hears the unmistakable thud of an exhausted body slumping against the door.

§

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait a minute! Baekhyun's and Chanyeol's perspectives on the situation don't match! What could this possibly mean? And whose perspective is true? I would love to hear your answers so please comment your ideas below! Don't be shy, I don't bite. Exams are starting next week so I might not be able to update. On a completely unrelated side note, have you guys heard Electric Kiss? The song, video and choreography are EVERYTHING. Anyways, thank you once again for the support and for taking the time to read my story!
> 
> Check out the story cover [here](https://flic.kr/p/2274Q4T)! Designed by yours truly.
> 
> If any of you want to be a beta reader for this fic, feel free to message me. I'd really appreciate it! And feel free to comment on any improvements that could be made. I'm still learning. Any and all feedback is welcome (as long as it's constructive)!
> 
> As always, you can obsess over EXO and anime with me on [Tumblr](https://theenigmaticphoenix.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Vidya__21)!


	3. lethargy

_But all this driving_  
_Is driving me crazy_  
_And all this moving_  
_Is proving to get the best of me_

§

**THE DISTINCT CLICK** of handcuffs reaches Chanyeol’s ears as his wrists are locked together by dainty fingers.

_ Much too delicate to be working in this kind of profession _ Chanyeol thinks.

It’s as if Baekhyun reads his mind when he roughly shoves the former against the grimy wall of the inn to prove him wrong.

Chanyeol groans in pain when his face smashes against it, headache intensifying as the seconds tick by.

“Go easy on me dude,” Chanyeol’s deep voice rings out, slightly muffled, the movement of his lips hindered.

“You got beat up pretty badly in that accident, and I would probably treat you a bit better if I actually cared, but unfortunately for you, that’s not the case.” Sheriff Byun -  _ Baekhyun _ \- his mind corrects automatically for him, says in a monotonous drawl; much unlike the artful tone he used before he set his eyes on the contents of that wretched bag.

In an uncanny show of strength, Baekhyun spins him around and pushes him into a nearby chair, the old wood creaking upon receiving the extra weight and the latter groaning once again, in agony.

Now it’s as if the roles are reversed as Baekhyun towers over him, albeit barely, Chanyeol notes, with a hint of pride.

The ice in the other’s glare effectively arrests his silent gloating as he looks up into solid toffee eyes, gulping.

“Let’s have a little chat shall we? Just you and me. And of course, this bag of DIAMONDS!” His voice escalating in volume and ending with a scream of the word.

Chanyeol flinches at the sound, turns a (probably now) deaf ear to the demand, gazing back unwaveringly, eyes soft enough to smother the flames outside, and instead replies in a whisper, almost imperceptible if Baekhyun didn’t have hearing as sharp as he did.

“You’re wrong Bae- Sheriff. You do care. You wouldn’t have invited me to-,” he pauses, finally taking a good look at the devastating state of his surroundings, fragments of bottles littered everywhere and the unmistakable stench of alcohol lingering in the stuffy, putrid air, “-whatever this place is, if you didn’t. Those police officers looked much more… vicious and unforgiving… compared to you.”

His eyes eventually land on the aforementioned officer, whose glare seems to have melted the slightest bit. Rigid steely lines, giving way to more droopy malleability, orbs now an ichorous caramel.

“Officers? What… what officers?”

“Those police officers of course! Didn’t you see them when you were trying to catch my attention?” Chanyeol asks.

“There were no police officers.” Baekhyun says slowly, articulating each word, like Chanyeol was a fragile child, like one wrong move could send his whole world crumbling.

“Wh- I-I-I-,” Chanyeol opens his mouth, but words refuse to come out, trapped in their own prison. “You-You’re wrong! I saw them.  _ I. SAW. THEM. _ ” His tone turns gravelly, and he thinks one of his eyes might be twitching involuntarily as he tries to hold on to the only piece of information he knows; shackled hands gripping tightly onto the back of the chair, splinters digging into palms shooting tiny spears of pain up his arms. He welcomes it, relishes it, in fact. For the pain was a reminder that he was real and that he could feel; however horrible the feelings might be.

He searches Baekhyun’s eyes for a sign. A sign telling him that he’s right. But all he sees is a vacancy, an empty hollow vacancy that’s taken up residence there.

The frown lines on Baekhyun’s face deepen as he shakes his head and recites his view of the events that unfolded all the while, wordlessly indicating that  _ no, you’re the crazy one _ .

Dread starts settling in his stomach as his throat clogs up, all bodily functions except thinking seem to cease as he tries, tries with all his might, to remember anything before yesterday night. Anything at all. A semblance of his life before he ended up in this miserable state.

And it’s when his mind draws a complete and absolute blank that Chanyeol starts thinking that maybe he really is. A maniac who refuses to acknowledge his lunacy or maybe he’s just been oblivious to it the whole time, Baekhyun’s words serving as a harsh slap to knock him out of his daze.

_ What’s real and what’s not? _

Dangerous thoughts start haunting his mind. But what’s disconcerting to him is the fact that they hadn’t materialized now. They were always there, tucked away in the dark recesses of his mind, hidden, just waiting for the opportunity to crawl out and grip his very conscience in a strangling hold, like an invisible noose tied around his sanity, squeezing the life out of it.

Chanyeol glances up at Baekhyun once again and finds himself at a loss for words, the inner battle raging inside his head coming to a temporary standstill as his eyes bore into him with their stark intensity.

“Look… well… it’s probably that nasty concussion you’ve been inflicted with. I’m sure after the right treatment, the hallucinations will be gone in no time.” Baekhyun tries to console him and fails, the statement coming out flat and half-hearted. How was he to be blamed though, for he was always rubbish at human interaction and sentiment anyway, having had no true experience prior in the 24 years he’s existed.

“I- I guess you’re right. Th- That probably accounts for the memory loss as well… I hope,” Chanyeol says slowly, eyes unblinking as they continue to stare at Baekhyun, who looks back in challenge, not shying away from the unnerving scrutiny.

The impromptu staring contest continues, the ticking of the nearby grandfather clock the only soundtrack, as breaths mingle in the unventilated purlieu of the police station, both of them lost in rapture.

A harsh knock on the door startles Chanyeol out of his trance, who slightly jumps in his chair almost falling out in the process; long limbs and uncoordinated vision not proving helpful at all as the world spins a bit more for him with the sudden movement.

Much to his annoyance Baekhyun merely raises his eyebrows and the side of his mouth quirks slightly in unimpressed amusement. He steps back to answer the intruder. Or at least, he was an intruder in Chanyeol’s eyes, gruffing in displeasure at the loss of Baekhyun’s closeness. His presence had washed over his panic like a soothing balm and Chanyeol finds himself craving it desperately, already addicted to it.

The door opens to a tall, slender man. Facial features obscured by the fog that was starting to cloud up Chanyeol’s view; the pounding of his head increasing by tenfold. He grits his teeth and pulls at his restraints for the first time since he was cuffed, breath coming out in ragged puffs trying to grasp on to the last wisps of sentience.

Alas, his attempts prove futile as his eyes roll back in his head and he finally succumbs to the draught of unconsciousness that envelops him in an inky blanket of lethargy.

§

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a while. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! :D Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Just a quick life update: my finals are over (yay) and I'm 18 now! That's right. I'm officially an adult. But in all seriousness, I don't feel like one yet. Anyway, as you can tell, Chanyeol's hallucinating due to his concussion (or is he?) and the poor guy is honestly so confused right now. Somebody help him :'( Any guesses as to who the mysterious intruder is? Comment below! There's only like 10 people to guess from anyway ;) EXO's winter comeback is nearing and I'm so excited for it!
> 
> Check out the story cover [here](https://flic.kr/p/2274Q4T)! Designed by yours truly.
> 
> If any of you want to be a beta reader for this fic, feel free to message me. I'd really appreciate it! And feel free to comment on any improvements that could be made. I'm still learning. Any and all feedback is welcome (as long as it's constructive)!
> 
> As always, you can obsess over EXO and anime with me on [Tumblr](https://theenigmaticphoenix.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Vidya__21)!


	4. perplexity

_We don’t deal with outsiders very well_  
_They say newcomers have a certain smell_  
_You have trust issues not to mention_  
_They say they can smell your intentions_

§

 **BEING PULLED INTO** a rough embrace was the last thing Baekhyun had expected when he answers the door. With barely any time to register who the assaulter was, a sweaty odour engulfs his nostrils forcefully, much in the same way the diamond miner had.

The smell was like no other; only bestowed upon on those who dared to venture into the rocky caverns that held the precious jewels. Baekhyun recognized it instantly, having already been accustomed to the horrid stench. The only bearable attribute was the hint of musk lingering in the air like a nasal after taste, persuading him to temporarily forget the previous pungency.

 _And that right there is the dead giveaway_ Baekhyun thought to himself, smirking, making a mental guess of who the stranger was - his penchant for deduction coming into play - before pulling back to see if his prediction was correct. And today, like most days he played this little game to amuse himself with, he was right on the money. _How unfortunate that it was only figurative._

Oh Sehun was a simple man. Baekhyun had forged an alliance with him only a few months after settling in. The two, quite surprisingly, got along the moment they started conversing. Sehun was a handsome, young lad, who towered over the short sheriff (still does). But what the officer lacked in brawn, he more than made up for with brains.

At first, the attraction towards him was undeniable. He was the object of several dreams that frustrated Baekhyun to no end, until he finally decided to take mercy on himself and turn them into reality, taking the initiative to make a move and act upon his desires.

It was thrilling, scandalous and most important of all, distracted him from the pseudo perils of his occupation. But all good things must come to an end and as much as Baekhyun wished for it not to be true, the reality of the entire situation came cascading down; not crashing, for Baekhyun had seen it coming. He had seen it in his eyes ever since the start and yet he foolishly decided to string him along. It was a recipe for disaster in the making and Baekhyun had done nothing but sit by and watch as it all fell apart.

Oh Sehun was a simple man who had fallen in love with Byun Baekhyun. If only the latter could return his feelings. If only Sehun was the exception Baekhyun had been waiting for. The exception who could change his mind, prove his prejudices wrong.

For Baekhyun did not believe in hypothetical commitments or false promises of four-letter words, for they all faltered. Everyone eventually being claimed by the harsh truth of the world, morphing into their multiple personas to suit the scenario. Oh, how he wished it weren’t so.

It disgusted Baekhyun, the fact that their arrogance and pride made them blind to their own faults, while he stayed up late at night, helplessly picking away at each and every one of his insecurities and flaws, rubbing salt into the mental wounds time and time again.

And so their nightly escapades were cut short. One left in heartbreak and confusion that still remains unresolved and the other left with no regrets and slight episodes of wistful nostalgia now and then of what might have been.

“Finally found someone good enough to take my place, Baek?” Sehun jerks a grimy hand towards the general direction of where Chany- _the prisoner_ was. His eyes flicker over to him and he hums lowly. “I’m obviously better. Seeing as I can surely keep up my stamina long enough to actually start something,” he scoffs, attempting to play the joke off as nonchalance, but Baekhyun hears the hint of emotion attached to it.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, but as he shifts his attention to the aforementioned man, he sees him passed out, arms still cuffed behind his back, legs splayed, long neck exposed, Adam’s apple motionless, blood still dripping down the sides of his head.

The apt words to describe him would be a mess; dirty, sweaty, injured, head lolling uselessly on his shoulders, but Baekhyun can’t bring his subconscious to label him in such a way.

“Hey, you okay?” Sehun asks, concerned about the sudden change in demeanour, gently nudging him with his elbow effectively breaking his trance.

“Yeah. I’m… I’m fine,” he replies, voice lacking its usual emotionless snark. Baekhyun’s toffee orbs meet Sehun’s granite ones as he clears his throat and asks more confidently, “What brings you here Oh? Another petty complaint about Jongin? Because I honestly do not have the time to-”

“Actually, it’s something truly serious this time.” Sehun interrupts and takes a deep breath, “We mined a lot of diamonds yesterday. The most we have this year so far. Naturally, we took the necessary measures to ensure its security. In fact, we even went to the trouble of appointing old judge Myeon’s dogs on watch because of the sheer multitude of precious rocks we uncovered.”

Sehun pauses and blinks rapidly as if there was something in his eye. As Baekhyun lifts his head to urge him to continue, he’s taken aback when Sehun suddenly grips his shoulders, fingers scrunching up the fabric, and slams him against the door, much like the former did with the man in the chair.

“It’s gone.” He whispers harshly, voice catching on the last syllable. His hot breath that once sent shivers down Baekhyun’s spine only serves to make him scrunch up his nose in distaste as it fans over his face. Baekhyun wonders what he ever saw in the man who couldn’t even take care of himself.

“Ugh… Would it kill you to brush your teeth every once in a while? Your breath reeks… even more than you,” Baekhyun says as he roughly shoves Sehun away, putting some much-needed distance between them.

“And besides,” he says as he slowly ambles over to where he had placed the bag prior to Sehun’s interruption. “You have nothing to worry about. It’s right here. With me.” The corners of Baekhyun’s mouth curl into a smug grin, asserting his competence as the sheriff, “Safe and sound.”

Baekhyun carelessly throws the decrepit, mangled bag to Sehun, who catches it albeit with a little difficulty. His expression morphs into one of confusion and awe. Perplexity with an inkling of admiration for his ex-lover.

“Not a day goes by where you cease to amaze me Baek,” Sehun reverently whispers.

Baekhyun tips his head towards him, acknowledging the compliment by an infinitesimal fraction and mutters, “Only doing my job.”

He then turns back towards the unconscious man, contemplating his next step of action before-

“Uh, Baek? Do you… uh… do you-”

“Spit it out, Oh! I don’t have time for this.” The words come out harsher than intended but the venom does its job.

Sehun clears his throat, anxiety overcoming him for a brief moment. “Do you need some help? I mean… if you wanted it of course… I-”

“Sure.” Baekhyun cuts in before Sehun continues to ramble and embarrass himself even more. He finally spares the latter a glance and realizes, with repulsion, that he’s blushing; a faint pink dusting cheekbones that looked like they could cut diamonds themselves.

“Really?” Baekhyun almost rolls his eyes at the hopeful tone but refrains from doing so. _He wasn’t heartless._

“Yes. Now help me put this giant lump of limbs in a jail cell, will you?”

At this, Sehun’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his fringe as smoky eyes survey the insentient man with uncertainty. “Why would you do such a thing? I know ‘trust’ isn’t a word in your vocabulary, but come on, the man looks harmless. Yes. He’s new here and maybe he was unknowingly trespassing, but… but it gives you no right to slap him in handcuffs and-”

“He did it,” Baekhyun interrupts in a steady voice, much too calm for comfort.

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“The thief who stole the diamonds. It’s him.”

§

 **METAL AGAINST METAL.** The clang of chains against bars. That’s what threw Baekhyun overboard his ship to the land of dreams, or in his case, nightmares.

Part of him supposes that he should be grateful, but another wishes for the gruesome death of the root cause of the noise; sleep-deprived brain devising various situations, all of which ending with a dead body.

“My God, keep it down,” he yells, crisp voice cutting through the desert night with a bluntness that could only be associated with Byun Baekhyun.

Being the first person to occupy the godforsaken prison in years, Baekhyun felt justified to supervise the man in case of things going awry.

Nevermind the fact that the prisoner would have to be a criminal mastermind to escape. And judging by their previous encounter, he definitely was not one.

Sehun had leered at him earlier, claiming he had a soft spot for the giant and was merely disguising his desire to keep the man company, to which Baekhyun scoffed in utter disdain and proceeded to kick the diamond miner out.

Metal against metal. There it goes again. The sound grating on Baekhyun’s nerves and setting his teeth on edge.

“Park, I swear if you don’t stop that this instant-”

And it stops. All at once. The silence unwelcoming and eerie.

Baekhyun mutters something under his breath as he forages in his desk drawer for a bottle of beer, hoping to calm himself with a chug of inebriation in a bottle.

As his hands clasp around the neck of the glass, he hears a loud creak from the general direction of the jail area. It sounds ominous to his ears, like a bad omen.

_It sounds almost like… almost like…_

His heart rate picks up a notch and his head starts pounding as if just touching the alcohol earned him a hangover.

All thoughts of getting drunk dissipate from his mind and he instead reaches for his revolver.

The noises of the outside world get drowned out by his sporadic heartbeat. He clutches onto the gun with both hands, gathers all of his courage and makes his way towards where _he_ was, where he _is_.

_You can do this Byun. You can do this._

Flicking on the lights, he gasps at the unbelievable sight. Jaw dropping and pupils dilating as he meets eye to eye with his worst case scenario.

§

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this year comes to a close, I'd like to wish you all a very Happy New Year!!! May you fulfill all that you wish for in 2018 and stay happy and healthy :D Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I will never stop saying this, even next year ;) You don't know how much it means to me.
> 
> Would you look at who's joined the party? It's none other than the gorgeous Oh Sehun, who seems to still be a bit in love with Baekhyun, who's having none of it (poor Sehun). And what's with that ominous ending? Who's "he"? Comment your guesses on what happens next below! I love hearing your ideas. I know I've left this chapter on a cliffhanger (sorry not sorry), but the next update will be out in about a week so hang in there! ;D
> 
> Check out the story cover [here](https://flic.kr/p/2274Q4T)! Designed by yours truly.
> 
> If any of you want to be a beta reader for this fic, feel free to message me. I'd really appreciate it! And feel free to comment on any improvements that could be made. I'm still learning. Any and all feedback is welcome (as long as it's constructive)!
> 
> As always, you can obsess over EXO and anime with me on [Tumblr](https://theenigmaticphoenix.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Vidya__21)!


	5. trepidation

_I’m standing right on the edge_  
_Looking down at the bottom_  
_And I know it will hurt hitting ground_  
_But I don’t think that I’d mind the falling_

§

**THE COLD BARREL** presses against his forehead as toffee irises meet orbs of molten onyx that glint in the night challengingly.

Baekhyun sucks in the breath he was holding and makes to grasp his revolver only to meet with thin air. The realization that he’s being threatened with his own gun dawning on him with the force of a freight train.

_ His _ lips twist into a triumphant smirk, exposing a row of perfectly aligned teeth that shine like diamonds in the dimness. His tall, dark silhouette overtakes Baekhyun’s own; posture more sure of himself. The confidence that eluded him in the afternoon returning in full swing, sharply contrasting with Baekhyun’s enervated state.

There are still some remnants of dried up blood on his right ear. A feature Baekhyun had found endearing, now only adding more menace to the person it was attached to.

He’s terrified. The last thing Baekhyun wants to think about is how attractive his assailant looks, but he  _ needs _ to focus on that thought instead of the icy chill against his head. He might lose his mind otherwise. He  _ will _ lose his mind otherwise.

Metal against skin. A much more insidious combination. One that Baekhyun prayed he would never have to face in his line of service, despite knowing full well what his profession was.

A strangled noise rips out of his throat as the gun presses against him with increased urgency. The man’s eyes darken even more, if possible. Baekhyun refuses to look away; allowing himself to drown in those stygian pools of emptiness that rivals his own.

He hears the unfamiliar click of the revolver he’s never fired before, the revolver he considered to be a novelty item, a novelty item that has the power to end his life at the moment.

He doesn’t tear his eyes away. He doesn’t break  _ his _ gaze. He can’t seem to. Like metal drawn to a magnet.

Baekhyun has never been afraid of death, even when it’s staring him in the face like it is now. So he just takes a deep breath and braces himself for what’s to come, the fight in him having left a month after he was banished to this town.

One bullet. So easy. So painless. Just one bullet. And it’s over.

He waits for the mind-numbing pain to overwhelm him. He waits for the instantaneous feeling of unconsciousness to sweep over him. He waits and waits and waits.

But it never comes.

Irises of liquid sugar meet orbs of molten onyx that twinkle in the night thoughtfully.

The last thing he sees is teeth that shine like clean cut diamonds before a dull throb in his head blossoms into a painful one, the blunt end of the gun colliding against it. Eyes slipping closed of their own accord and knees buckling underneath him as everything fades to black.

He faintly recalls a pair of strong arms catching him before he hits the ground and a deep, husky voice rasping out  _ “Hush now, it’ll be alright Baekhyunnie.” _

§

**HE CAN HEAR** water dripping from a runny tap nearby. That’s the first thing that registers in his befuddled brain before his eyes suddenly snap open, breath coming out in irregular puffs of air.

The second thing he registers is that he isn’t dead, as much as the unbearable throbbing of his head begs to differ.

The third thing he registers is that he’s not in the police station. In fact, he’s in a location he’s never seen before. And that stupefies him for a millisecond for he thought he knew the blasted town like the back of his hand.  _ Apparently not. _

The fourth thing he registers is that he’s seated on an old wooden chair, hands tied behind his back with thick rope that chaffs his delicate wrists painfully with every useless struggle; any attempts of escape proving futile.

The last thing Baekhyun registers are those damned eyes that make him shiver in ways that aren’t as unpleasant as they should be as they eye him from top to bottom.

He squirms uncomfortably in his seat, helpless and embarrassed, flushed cheeks burning under the scrutiny and wrists probably raw from all the friction.

_ He _ doesn’t speak. Just watches him from a distance as he leans casually against the dull, cracked wall that contrasts his outfit of obsidian, long legs stretched out in front of him, fingers absentmindedly drumming a rhythm against knees that peek out from under his ripped jeans.

_ He looks incredible. _ The arrogant expression on his face, the confidence with which he carries himself and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes making him look every bit of the criminal he was.

It’s witnessing this persona of his that convinces Baekhyun of the man’s capability to evade vicious guard dogs and steal diamonds without leaving a trace behind, like a shadow in the night.

_ And escape prison cells to knock out unsuspecting, gullible sheriffs _ his mind unhelpfully supplies.

The thought that he was now at  _ his _ mercy fills him with a sense of trepidation. Anticipation that isn’t entirely unwelcome starts bubbling inside of him.

For once, he’s grateful that he wasn’t shot. That he’s still alive. That he’s still breathing. And he thinks with the slightest sparkle of hope in his eyes  _ Maybe my life will finally get a little more interesting. Daresay… exciting? _

It’s pathetic. How he clings to that prospect with all his might. How he desperately wishes for it to be true. Even in dire and dangerous situations like the one he’s found himself in. It’s really very pathetic, but he just can’t help himself.

The socially acceptable reaction would be to severely object to being held hostage in an unknown setting by an almost stranger.

Socially acceptable? Yes. Emotionally acceptable? No.

Nevertheless, Baekhyun makes to voice his objection. But his words overlap with the heart-stopping clap of thunder that resonates through the cracks in the wall, effectively muting them.

_ A thunderstorm? In this hell hole of a desert?  _ Baekhyun is struck with that confusing thought for a second before a bright flash of lightning strikes, splitting it in two, as a result, casting a white silhouette that divides the room. An invisible line between the two of them that in practicality, could be crossed, but neither would dare do so.

An even odder notion flits his mind.  _ Lightning after thunder? _ Baekhyun suspects he might be going mad, but pushes the disturbing thought to the corner of his mind that he never revisits to deal with more pressing matters.

He pinches himself, arms still tied behind his back in hopes that he might be dreaming. A sharp sting later and everything is still the same as it was before. Thunder, then lightning, then  _ his _ Cheshire cat smile that his heart insisted was brighter than the preceding bolt of electricity.

Having finally found his voice again after the tempest interruption, Baekhyun says, toffee orbs staring at irises of onyx resolutely, with only a slight stutter and a subtle flicker, “Wh-What do you want? Why did you bring me here? Where am I? Who are y-”

“Hold it right there Baekhyunnie,”  _ he _ says in the same low voice as before, holding a calloused palm up; except this time there was more certainty behind everything he did. The smugness of a panther that had finally captured its prey. It made his skin crawl yet sent pleasant shivers down his back. “One question at a time. And say it slower,” he says in a deep voice, the right side of his face twisting into a sadistic grin.

Baekhyun should feel disgusted at the use of the nickname. He should.  _ So why aren’t I? _ he thinks.

Brain befuddled beyond repair for the rest of the night and body too exhausted to put up a fight, he repeats his questions slower, in a voice much calmer than what he was feeling at the moment. A tempest of his own swirling inside him, wreaking havoc over his head, his emotions caught up in a whirlwind.

_ He _ smiles his million watt smile, pleased that his instructions were obeyed. Not moving from where he was reclining against the frail structure, he answers in an equally slow pace, some words slurring despite the man not being intoxicated.

“I want  _ you _ .”

Thunder rumbles nearby.

“ _ Because _ I wanted to.”

Lightning streaks the night sky.

“The  _ Paradoxical _ Periphery.”

Teeth sparkle like diamonds.

“The name’s Yeol.  _ Just _ Yeol. Nothing less. Nothing more. Ready to have a good time with me  _ Baekhyunnie _ ?”

§

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back? Back again?
> 
> I know I shouldn't make a joke of not updating for an entire month but that's all I can think of right now. I'm really sorry!!! I've just been really busy with uni and I've been sick recently ;-; Feel free to throw as many tomatoes as you want at me. I deserve it.
> 
> Well, this story just took a turn, didn't it? Look at Chanyeol- I mean Yeol. He's completely changed! What do you guys think about that? Was Chanyeol just pretending to be meek all this time or is he pretending to be strong because he wants to escape? Poor Baekhyun must be going through a lot right now, but hopefully, he can get out of this predicament! The next chapter will be up in a week I think? I'm super busy at the moment so it might take two (sorry in advance). I really appreciate your patience and understanding :) Thank you so much for reading my story!
> 
> Check out the story cover [here](https://flic.kr/p/2274Q4T)! Designed by yours truly.
> 
> If any of you want to be a beta reader for this fic, feel free to message me. I'd really appreciate it! And feel free to comment on any improvements that could be made. I'm still learning. Any and all feedback is welcome (as long as it's constructive)!
> 
> As always, you can obsess over EXO and anime with me on [Tumblr](https://theenigmaticphoenix.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Vidya__21)!


End file.
